Three Kinds of People Having Lunch
by Scribbler
Summary: S1. ‘When it comes to the future, there are three kinds of people: those who let it happen, those who make it happen, and those who wonder what happened.’ - John M. Richardson. Willow, Xander and their doomed friend Jesse discuss the new girl, Buffy. W/X.


**Disclaimer****:** Verily they are not mine.

**A/N****:** Poor Jesse. Everybody seems to forget he ever existed, or that he was important to Xander and Willow before Buffy ever came on the scene. This fic was written as a request for Tuna Salad Sonnet, who asked for 'Willow/Xander and a Season One timeframe'.

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_**Three Kinds of People Having Lunch**_

© Scribbler, October 2008.

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'_When it comes to the future, there are three kinds of people: those who let it happen, those who make it happen, and those who wonder what happened.'_ -- John M. Richardson Jr.

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"So I hear we have a new girl starting next week." Jesse leaned on one elbow, biting into the Sloppy-Joe in his other hand and getting a large splot of grease on his shirt for his trouble. He leaped up, crying out at the mess, and then turned beet red when the table of cheerleaders next to theirs giggled and pointed. "Aw, man. Hopefully, whoever this new chick is, she's not another Clothes Horse Clone."

Willow giggled politely and offered him her paper napkin. Beside her, Xander bit into his own lunch and made appreciative noises.

"How can you eat that stuff?" Willow made a face. "It's, like, dead animals and dirt scooped up off the factory floor."

"Hey, don't diss the food, Will. I waited all morning for this. It's what got me through Mr. Morris's math class." Xander took another bite. "Besides, I think you're giving the school cafeteria too much credit. It's mostly factory floor dirt with some animal bits thrown in for flavour."

Jesse made gagging noises. "Gross, man. Very gross."

"It's my way of ensuring I get two lunches while only paying for one. You gonna finish that?"

Willow opened her own bag lunch and daintily pulled out a Tupperware container filled with tofu salad. She tried to ignore it when Cordelia Chase and her cronies started laughing. There was a slim chance they _weren't_ laughing at her and her two friends, but it was unlikely. When it came to social pariahs you could get more pariah-y than Willow, Xander and Jesse. They were like some unholy trinity how of how to attract bullies and survive high school with extremely interesting mental scarring.

"So," Jesse went on, unwilling to let this go, "what do you think the new girl will be like? I hear she comes from a big city. Big city girls are always really sophisticated and junk, aren't they?"

"She should spice up life around Sunnydale," Xander replied. "Then again, that wouldn't be hard. A light drizzle would spice up life around Sunnydale."

Jesse's eyes became unfocussed. "I hope she's cute."

Xander nodded. "Cute would be good."

"With long legs and red hair."

"You like redheads?" Xander raised an eyebrow at Jesse.

Willow tried even harder not to blush than she had to ignore the cheerleaders. Jesse was inept when it came to other people's feelings, though she knew he didn't mean to be. He just had all the social grace of an epileptic trying to tap-dance in shoes made from dead hedgehogs.

"They're okay. Girls with red hair are, in my experience, way cuter than brunettes. As long as they have bodies like Xena, Warrior Princess, of course."

_Inside-out_ dead hedgehogs.

Willow cast a quick glance at Xander to see how he reacted to this titbit. Would he say _he_ liked redheads, too? Absently she toyed at a lock of her own hair, getting it caught in the prongs of her plastic fork. She was nowhere near Xena in body-shape. She was more Strawberry Shortcake - flat-chested, big-headed and eternally cast in the role of little kid in pastel colours while her peers blossomed into buxom young women in black lace and PVC mini skirts. Willow knew that if _she_ ever tried to wear the kind of thing Cordelia wore to the Bronze on a Friday night she'd just look like a candlestick wrapped in a garbage bag.

"Xena can't hold a candle to Lara Croft, dude," Xander said firmly.

Willow's burgeoning hope deflated like a balloon that had been patched up so many times it was more sticky tape than rubber. "You're both totally sexist," she said, picking the last strands of hair from her fork and digging into her salad.

"So what do _you_ hope the new girl's like, Will?" Jesse asked.

Willow paused. _Nothing whatsoever like Xander's idea of a perfect girl_.

She shook the unkind thought away. The new girl would be who she'd be, no matter what Willow did or didn't want. It would be horrible of her to set herself against the newcomer without getting to know her first. Who knew? Maybe she'd be nice and she and Willow could be pals, and Willow could finally have a friend who _wasn't_ a guy or a potential love-interest-who-would-never-be.

"I hope she's not another Cordelia Chase," she said at last.

Xander raised his soda. "I'll drink to that."

"Here, here!" Jesse agreed, raising his own can.

They both eyed Willow until she also lifted her bottle of mineral water. They clinked the three drinks together, then each knocked back a gulp as if toasting something important. The cheerleaders giggled even harder at their eccentricity.

Willow ignored them and went back to her lunch.

"Hey, Will?" Jesse said after a few minutes. "Could you spare some of that? Xander totally stole my sandwich."

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_**Fin.**_

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End file.
